Page 16 of Playing for Keeps

I realized I’d been staring for too long when she raised an eyebrow and smiled, repeating herself. “So, do you need any help?”

And there it was again: the accent. It sounded British. It hit like a cliché out of a movie, but damn if it wasn’t sexy.

Before I could get my voice to work, I noticed someone coming toward us.

“Oh my God!” A teenage boy ran up, wearing a hockey jersey and already holding his phone. “You’re Max Finnegan! Dude, you are so good. I love you, man. Can I please get a selfie and an autograph?”

I forced myself to stop looking into those green eyes, giving her a quick, silent apology before smiling at the kid. “Sure thing, bud.”

I signed the jersey, posed for the photo, and sent the kid on his way.

When I turned back, the woman was watching me warily. She looked curious, but not very impressed.

“So, what are you famous for?” she said, tilting her head a little.

“Hockey,” I replied, trying not to sound like I was bragging.

She had a mischievous look in her eyes. “Field or ice?”

I held my chest like I’d just been mortally wounded. “Baby, please. Ice, of course.”

Her lips twitched. “It’s Emma. Not ‘baby’.”

I grinned, happy to have gotten a reaction. “Emma. Nice. I’m Max Finnegan. People usually just call me Finn.”

“What’s the matter with Max?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Nothing at all,” I said, leaning in slightly. “But Finn sounds better when people yell it from the stands.”

Emma made a small sound in her throat, as if she was half amused, half unconvinced. Then she glanced at the shelves. “So, do you need help picking out a book?”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Why do you think I need help?”

“Well,” she said dryly, “you’ve been staring at these shelves for several minutes, and you looked pretty distressed. So it’s a safe assumption.”

I leaned back against the shelf, letting a grin spread across my face. “So… you were watching me.”

Her eyes rolled, sharp and deliberate, but the slightest curve tugged at her lips before she could hide it. “Wow, that’s so arrogant. I’m just trying to help.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It felt so easy and real. The fire in her voice didn’t put me off; if anything, it drew me in. She wasn’t intimidated and wasn’t playing along like most people did. And damn if that eye roll wasn’t the cutest thing I’d seen in a long time.

“Well, maybe I’m arrogant,” I said, grinning even wider. “Or maybe you just couldn’t help keeping an eye on me.”

She gave me a look that might have withered a less confident man. “Or maybe I couldn’t help but notice the tall Canadian talking to himself about unicorns.”

“Busted. Okay, fine. I’m looking for a book for my niece. She’s turning ten. Loves to read. That’s literally all I know.”

Emma’s face softened. “That helps to narrow it down a bit. What kind of girl is she?”

“She’s smart. Way smarter than me, which isn’t saying much,” I admitted. “She likes to draw, and she once told me she wants to ‘travel the whole world’.”

Emma nodded her head. “Adventurous then. Maybe something with a heroine she can relate to. A girl who’s clever, brave. Someone who discovers new worlds. Have you tried Fablehaven? Or perhaps a book by Catherine Fisher. She writes wonderful adventure stories for children that age.”

I was surprised by the way her eyes lit up. She wasn’t just talking about books; she was alive in this place, like the shelves and the stories were part of her.

“You sound like you know your stuff,” I said.

“I should hope so,” she replied, with a confident look on her face that made me smile. “Otherwise I’ve wasted far too many years hanging around in shops like this.”